Tears
by FawkesFyre
Summary: Harry holds some lingering sadness about the outcome of the war; Draco has some downers of his own. When Draco surprises them both by asking Harry to play quidditch, things just may be looking up. DMxHP. Sorry for the lame title... :3
1. Chapter 1

**Happy reading! **

"Hedwig," Harry called into the darkened owlrey. He saw her glide down from the rafters in the silvery moonlight, and held out his arm for her to perch on. She nuzzled into his shoulder and cooed, and Harry offered her a little snack. When she took it a smile flashed across his face, but he sighed and returned his gaze to the window a moment later. The grounds were bathed in moonlight- the lake shimmered with it- but it did little to cheer Harry. The tears fell anyway, and neither Hedwig's loving cuddles nor Hogwarts itself could stop them.

This had been going on for some time now; since the war ended, really. The happiness of returning to the place where he had always felt wanted couldn't overshadow the guilt and grief Harry felt for the life lost during the war. The empty spaces in class where his friends should be and the empty chairs at the dinner table were constant reminders of what had been lost. Time heals all wounds, someone had told him. What happens when you lose your spirit?

He and Ginny had drifted apart once the crisis was over- they had only gotten together out of need for comfort in the first place, and neither had the will to continue the relationship after it had served its purpose. Hermione and Ron, however, had strengthened their bond with the shared experiences of the war, and Harry knew that Ron was waiting for the 'perfect moment' to propose. Harry would sometimes just watch them be together, and couldn't help but wish for the same kind of familiarity and ease and love for himself. Who wouldn't want the pure connection his two best friends shared? Who indeed…

oOoOoOoOo

Draco was sitting in a corner of the owlrey absently listening to the birds coo, lost in thought, when the door opened. The dusty air swirled around the warm room as the door creaked open, and the Golden Boy walked in. That boy has a complete disregard for the rules, Draco thought, then shook his head softly. Who was he to talk? Pot, meet kettle.

Draco was going to stand and walk out of the shadows, but the childish hopelessness on Potter's face kept him still. It was an emotion Draco had been feeling himself, and he found himself quite unable to want to make Harry feel worse. With his father in Azkaban and his mother close to losing it, Draco was always on edge. People had warmed up to him since the end of the war, but he felt as if he was constantly floundering, barely staying afloat.

The war had changed Draco, just like everyone else. He couldn't keep his façade up and pretend like the war had not affected him- it had. He couldn't be cold to the people who were now saying hello to him in the hallways and smiling empathetically at him when a teacher docked points. The hard shell Draco had always hidden behind was melting, and he was exposed and raw for the first time in his life, feeling everything like a blind man with new eyes.

Potter called to his owl, and Draco grudgingly had to admit she was a beauty. Snowy white, shining in the moonlight. Draco looked at Potter's face and drew in a soft gasp- the boy was crying! What had made him do that? Draco hadn't even shown himself, and yet tears blazed their way down Harry's cheeks and dropped onto his owl's feathers. He watched as Harry nudged aside his glasses with his fist to rub away the tears, but more took their place and he gave up. Draco listened to the Chosen One's short little breaths and wanted to know why he suddenly wanted to make the boy's pain go away.

oOoOoOoOo

"Hey 'arry, Malfoy's starin' atchah again," Ron said through a mouthful of treacle tart. Harry had noticed the grey eyes on him, of course. He always noticed. But Harry looked up at the Slytherin table anyway, to appease Ron.

"Yeah, I wonder what's up with that." Harry looked at Malfoy and saw that his face was calculating and curious- far from the malevolence that usually emanated from it. When Harry caught his eye, Draco looked away, and Harry could have sworn he saw a blush warming his pale cheeks.

"He doesn't look mad," Hermione said after a minute. "I wonder if he's decided to drop the feud between you two. Took him long enough." Harry had been acting cordially toward his ex-enemy, even finding himself smiling at some of the jokes Malfoy spouted out. It was about time that Draco took notice of Harry's effort and stopped hexing him around every corner, the git.

"What, Malfoy? No way." Ron said, eyebrows raised. Harry nodded, but silently agreed with Hermione. Maybe Malfoy had decided to play nice.

Harry made his excuses to deaf ears as he got up from the table. Ron and Hermione continued their impromptu snogging after a mumbled acknowledgement. He walked out of the great hall, planning on heading up to the common room to finish his potions essay that was due Monday, but was stopped just outside the doors by Malfoy.

"Hey Potter, where're you going?"

"Why do you want to know?" Harry was tired. Sleep last night was interrupted with dreams of screams and dark masks and reptilian eyes and loneliness, and he wasn't up to a confrontation.

"Curiosity?"

Harry sighed. "Common room."

"Where's the mudbl… Granger and the Weasley?"

"Breakfast. Please move." Harry tried to shove by Malfoy, but the blonde moved to block his way.

"What do you want, Malfoy." Harry rubbed his tired eyes.

"Come practice quiddich with me." Draco's look of surprise matched Harry's.

"What?"

"You. Me. A snitch. On the pitch. Yeah?"

"Er, I guess…"

"Meet me there after lunch."

Harry couldn't find it in himself to pick his jaw up off the floor. As he watched Draco swirl away down the hallway, he thought of Hermione's comment about Malfoy. Maybe he _was_ ready to move on. It looks like he even was trying to be acquaintances- even _friends._ Harry walked to the common room in stunned disbelief, and almost walked into the fat lady when he forgot to mumble the password.

oOoOoOoOo

What. The _bloody_ hell. Was that. Draco was internally freaking out as he walked down the hallway away from that… _boy. _The boy that made Draco lose all his mental faculties, who destroyed his verbal filter, who made Draco address the mudblood like a _person. _ Why Draco had even stopped Potter in the first place was beyond him. Yes, he'd felt bad for him last night in the owlrey, but Harry looked fine today. What's with the invitation to the pitch?

No, Draco couldn't lie. There was dullness in Harry's eyes where there used to be a spark, and his shoulders hunched as if he was defeated. Draco had always watched Harry, the whole know thy foe deal. But lately Harry had been breaking out of the patterns Draco noticed before the war. Draco could not say that Harry looked fine.

But that was no excuse to go and try to be best friends with his platonic enemy! Draco had no idea what to say once he had Harry stopped in the hall, so asked about his friends. They weren't with him- another sign that Potter was not all right. The quiddich idea had popped into his head out of nowhere- it was the only thing they had in common, and Draco had used that to his advantage. Or mortification; there was no way Harry was going to show! What had he been thinking? He was a Malfoy, dignified and haughty at all times, but apparently Draco was now prostrating himself in front of enemies and losing his aloof fallback persona. Draco groaned into the empty hallway, his voice echoing strangely, and marched down to the Slytherin rooms. Now all he had to do was wait.

oOoOoOoOo

Harry approached the field slowly, looking at it askance. How should he handle this situation? He walked in through the showers and onto the grass, searching the open air. Coming here felt like coming home- there were few places that Harry felt more comfortable. Harry took heart, and stepped onto his broom. Draco wasn't here, but Harry wasn't surprised. He could practice anyway. The snitch Dumbledore gave him before the war ended flitted out of his pocket and flew off, and Harry gave it a head start before flying high to scan for it.

Harry had noticed that his snitch was a playful little thing, and he chuckled as it spiraled away. A movement drew his eye to the locker room doors, and he almost fell off his broom as Malfoy himself came walking onto the pitch. His facial expression was almost bitter until the blonde looked up and saw Harry. He smirked, and took off.

"Couldn't wait for me there, Potter?" Harry was distracted by the normally slicked back hair swirling free around Draco's face, but said,

"Suppose not. The snitch's already out."

"Loser buys butterbeer in Hogsmeade this weekend," Draco yelled, and went shooting off into the sky. Was that another invitation to hang out together? Harry wondered, but the thought vanished as Draco laughed triumphantly and went streaking toward the ground.

They flew for hours, laughing at the exhilaration and impossibility of the whole situation, and promised the other a few rounds each at the Three Broomsticks.

oOoOoOoOo

"Where'd you go, Harry?" Hermione asked as he walked through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room.

"Hey, Harry. Wanna play exploding snaps with me and Neville?" Ron called from across the room. "Oh bloody—" Ron's swear was cut off by an enormous bang as their house of cards blew up.

"Aww, not again!" Neville said, smiling gleefully from the floor a few feet away.

"Not now, Ron. Maybe tomorrow." Harry said as he drug Neville up off his back. "I'm knackered."

"See you in the morning then," Hermione said.

"'Night guys."

Harry walked up the stairs to his room with a spritely gait. It was Thursday- only two days until the visit to Hogsmeade, and two days until he and Draco would meet for butterbeer. Harry decided not to think about the fact that it was Draco making his nerves and excitement come out to play- the last time that happened was when he was meeting Cho Chang, and Harry and Draco were _not _meeting for a date. Though the thought didn't make Harry retch like it would have a year ago… Harry flung himself onto his four poster and fell asleep with a smile, for the first time without tears on his cheeks.

oOoOoOoOo

'Salazar, what a genius I can be!' Thought Draco as he walked down the stairs to the dungeons with his broom slung casually over his shoulder. 'Now he has to meet me again. Hopefully it won't be awkward or anything. I've got to think of things to say, if the conversation stops. Oh man! Harry likes butterbeer, doesn't he? Oh don't be absurd, Draco. You know he does. But what if he wants to bring Granger and Weasley along? I need… _want_ them to like me as well. Huh. How do you get people to like you? I've never wanted to try before. _What if he has a girlfriend?'_ Draco stopped short in the hallway. 'Why would it matter? It's not like _I_ want that position. Of significant other. To the Boy Who Lived. Right. Let her come… But I'm certainly not holding her chair or anything. Oh, should I hold _Potter's_ chair? I _did_ tell him to meet me.'

"Gah!" Draco said aloud, and someone sniggered behind him, startling Draco from his thoughts.

"Planning on going to the common room, Malfoy, or were you taking a walk to clear your obviously cluttered skull?" Blaise stared at him from down the stone hall. He was standing in front of the picture that opened into the common room- Malfoy had walked about fifty feet past it.

"Stuff it." Draco shuffled back down the flagstones and shoved by Blaise into the common room. He would need to plan his obsessing time wisely, if this zoning out business was going to become a habit.

oOoOoOoOo

The castle seemed more abuzz with life than usual; even the gargoyles were peeking into the Gryffindor common room to see what was up. A cheerful 'Hogsmeade!' shouted into their stony faces was usually the only answer they got. Ron, Hermione, Harry, and most of the Gryffindors were in the common room waiting until the set departure time, talking over each other and gesturing emphatically and in an occasionally dangerous manner to those in their general vicinity.

"…and Honeydukes, and Zonko's, and-" Ron counted off on his fingers blithely, orating to whoever happened to be within hearing distance.

"We have to say hi to that Ollivander bloke, I heard he just got released from the hospital-" said Hermione.

"And Fortescues, and-"

"Hogsmeade!" Neville shouted cheerfully at a gargoyle, who nodded and hunkered back out the window with a slight grinding noise.

"Oh, can't forget the Three Broomsticks, and-" Harry tuned them out as much as was possible at the mention of the Three Broomsticks. He and Draco hadn't arranged a _time_ to meet for butterbeer. Were they supposed to run into each other there on a crazy random happenstance? Did Harry miss some important part of the meeting-up code? He'd never had this problem with Ron or Hermione. Then again, he'd been friends with them for a long time now. He hadn't had to make a new friend in ages, and he was just now realizing he may in fact be absolute_ pants_ at it.

He ran a hand through his hair, tugging on it, then looked down at himself sharply. Was he supposed to look _nice_ for this non-date-thing? He was wearing what he usually wore; dark jeans and a soft tee shirt. Plain muggle clothes. Draco was always wearing his high class, certainly expensive things… Harry shrunk the rather large tee shirt until it fit his slim frame, raked his fingers through his hair a few more times for good measure, and called it presentable.

He looked up from his final inspection to see Hermione's eyes on him with her head slightly tilted. Oh no. Oh _no._ She would probably think Harry was _meeting_ _meeting_ someone, like a date. She would see Malfoy and assume things…

"It's not… I just didn't like all the extra." Harry said, tugging at the hem of his newly fitted shirt to explain. Hermione nodded, satisfied, and turned back to Ron.

"Hogsmeade!" Someone shouted cheerfully as McGonagall stepped through the portrait.

"Time to go, students! You know the drill!" She ducked quickly back out of the portrait as the noise in the common room exploded and the mob bore down on the door.

A few minutes later, a gargoyle peeked back into the common room window.

"Yeesh, thank Merlin those noisy buggers are gone! We can finally bird-watch in peace!"

oOoOoOoOo

Harry shouldn't have worried; Draco sought him out on the way to Hogsmeade to set a time to meet.

"Did you think you could weasel out of buying me a drink?"

"I was just making sure you were still planning on buying me _mine."_

"A Malfoy always keeps his word. Two o'clock, then?"

"Yeah, all right."

"Be sure to come on time, Malfoys also hate to be kept waiting."

"I'll come on time, all right." Harry muttered as Draco walked away. What he said hit him as Draco shot a loaded look back over his shoulder before returning to the Slytherin pack. Harry cursed every excess blood cell in his cheeks as a blush spread across his skin and wondered when he had become proficient in creating innuendos on the fly like that. If he wasn't so mortified he would be congratulating himself.

oOoOoOoOo

Two o'clock seemed forever in coming to Draco. By one thirty he'd already browsed the places on his must-visit list and had moved half way through his visit-if-time-permits list. Crabbe and Goyle had wandered off somewhere with Blaise and the lot were most likely entranced with something shiny in Zonko's. And so Draco found himself in front of the Three Broomsticks, alone, at one forty five, and decided that looking a little desperate was well worth having somewhere to sit down. He snagged a small table near the back and settled in, drawing patterns in shimmery light with his wand idly on the tabletop.

He looked up after a bit when the door banged opened, smirking as Harry whipped his head around, spotted Draco, and bumbled his way through the maze of diners towards him. He slid sideways into his chair, skidding across the floor a bit. When his momentum stopped he slammed an elbow down on the table and cast a _tempus_ charm- it was two o'clock _exactly._

"YES!" Harry said emphatically, and did a little dance in his chair that Draco watched with interest. Harry looked up with a grin on his face a second later, settling down, and said,

"Told ya I'd be here at two."

"Barely. It shouldn't even count. You'll have to do better next time, Potter." Harry's grin grew and he looked at Draco a bit searchingly, but he motioned to Rosmerta and let it drop a moment later. Draco just barely held in a gusty sigh. _'_What's all this about next time?_' _he thought to himself, and accepted the butterbeer Rosmerta set down in front of him.

oOoOo

As it turns out, cashing in all of each other's promised rounds of butterbeer at the same time was only a good idea in theory. With each new glass, the topics of conversation got a little more personal and the space between their chairs seemed to decrease little by little. Draco spilled his best-kept secret. Harry said that he knew Draco was bisexual all along_._ Harry said that sometimes he feels like his only friend is Hedwig. Draco demanded the chance to be Harry's friend to prove that he was better than a feathery _bird_. Draco admitted that his mother wasn't coping very well since the fall of Voldemort, with Lucius in jail and the Malfoy name under such scrutiny. Harry gave Draco a comforting if not completely awkward hug.

"Draco, I think we should be friends."

"We went playing… no, we _played_ quidditch together. We're drinking in the Three Broomsticks together. I thought that meant we already _were_ friends."

"Well, yeah. I just thought I'd clarify. In case _you_ didn't take the hint."

"Right, because _I'm_ the dense one around here." Harry had leaned closer and almost toppled out of his chair; his hands hit Draco's thighs first, upon which he supported himself.

"Why do you always wear such fancy clothes?" Harry asked, his face close to Draco's. "You make everybody else around you look positively shabby."

"Was that a compliment I heard?"

"Yeah. We're friends. It's how these things work, yeah?" Harry reasoned as he pulled back into his own chair, a thoughtful finger to his lips.

"Right. Well, because I like making everyone around me look shabby, is why."

"Oh. Well I feel shabby right now. Quit it."

"You don't look shabby to me. I quite like how that shirt fits you."

Perhaps there was more alcohol in those innocent looking drinks after all.

oOoOoOoOo

Harry's life was looking up, it really was. He and Draco were on a first name basis, and Hermione and Ron (with persuasion) had accepted the fact that Harry and the Slytherin were now friends and weren't going to break out in a cacophony of curses each time they clapped eyes on each other. Hermione and Ron were still going strong, in every sense of the word. Harry hadn't had a detention in weeks.

But sometimes that old melancholy would sneak up on him, and there wasn't a thing in the world that could make Harry feel like it wasn't somehow his fault that so many people died for _his_ cause. His rational mind knew that there was no way he alone could have prevented the deaths, but his heart had yet to accept that. And until it did, Harry would have his late night visits to the owlrey and to Hedwig, and wake up with a scratchy throat and tired eyes.

oOoOo

He was sitting in the window with Hedwig perched on his knee and the tears rolling down his face when Draco decided to show himself. He was having a rather rough night as well; his mother had sent him a letter, which was good, but all she talked about was her plants in the greenhouse, which wasn't promising. He was more comfortable with the softer Draco he'd become, and no longer wished for the security and distance his cold mask had afforded him, but his mother has always had a way of cutting him through all of his defenses and leaving him more exposed than he was comfortable with.

Draco walked up to Harry's silhouette in the window, making sure Harry noticed him before pressing lightly on his shoulders. Harry, tears still streaking silver down his face in the moonlight, leaned forward, and Draco slipped one leg around his body so Harry sat cradled between Draco's thighs with his back leaning against Draco's chest. Draco wrapped his arms around Harry, pulling him closer, and Hedwig let out a muted coo before settling down onto Harry's lap once again.

Draco ran his thumb back and forth over a bit of Harry's tense stomach, and Harry relaxed gradually into him, allowing his body weight to rest on Draco and his head to lean against Draco's collarbone and neck. Draco couldn't even bring himself to care that Harry's saltwater tears were probably staining his sleep shirt. Harry was hurting, and Draco wanted to help. He pulled Harry closer and lifted one hand to brush rhythmically through his hair to help calm his wracking, silent sobs, and tried to hide his own tears of sympathy when Harry turned to curl closer into his chest.

**Author's Note: **This'll probably have one more chapter… and I'm open to suggestions Tell me what you think, yeah?


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **I believe this chapter is dedicated to my faithful reviewer BePeAcHy, who has inspired me to expand this little story to a multi-chaptered fic. I blame you for planting plot bunnies in my brain and allowing them to multiply and eat all my carrots- but I love you all the same ;) Happy reading for the rest of you!

**Also:** Sorry this is so late! I know you don't want to hear excuses, but there was some error message on the update page on FanFiction- I've had this chapter done for a week and a half and it's been KILLING me not being able to update! All apologies!

Neither Draco nor Harry brought up their moonlit meeting in the owlrey the next morning at breakfast, or the day after when they practiced quidditch on the pitch together, or while studying in the library a week later with Hermione and Ron. No, they never officially addressed it; but they acknowledged it all the same. Draco had taken to giving Harry short, spontaneous hugs whenever he saw that raincloud draw over Harry's eyes, and Harry decided it was high time that he initiated some of the things he and Draco did together rather than waiting for Draco to suggest something.

oOo

His first suggestion had come out of the blue, much like Draco's first attempt at friendship. The pair had been walking to Transfiguration and had somehow gotten on to the topic of muggle sports. Draco, unsurprisingly, had no idea what ping pong was, and Harry determined that it was necessary to have a tournament to teach him. They met in the room of requirement that day after classes to play for an hour before curfew, during which time Draco solidly buried Harry in best three of five.

"Beginner's luck, is all. I've got you beat, next time."

"Beginners luck, and two for good measure, and the third time's the charm… Ever though that it just might be the fact that you are bloody awful at table tennis, Potty?"

"Whatever. I already knew I'm pants at it. You have to admit it was fun though, yeah?" He tried to keep the uncertainty he felt out of his words. Being around Draco made Harry want to get his approval, want to earn a smile or laugh from him.

"Of course. I finally found a sport I can beat the golden boy at. A good day in my books _any_ time." Harry shoved his shoulder playfully. "So you admit that I'm better at every other sport, then?"

"No comment." Harry just caught the smile before Draco turned away towards the Slytherin common rooms. "Rematch next weekend, Potter!" He'd called back up the stairs, and this time Harry didn't need to see his face to know he was smiling.

oOo

Harry had also noticed that Draco was spending more time than usual alone; by the lake, holed up in the library, wandering the dungeons. This concerned Harry; He had an obvious reason to be feeling melancholy, so what was Draco's? Harry didn't feel comfortable asking his relatively new friend, even though he could see neither hide nor hair of Draco's previous ice prince persona.

It was during one of Draco's solitary wanderings a while later that Harry decided to do something other than just leave him to it. Harry had been at Hagrid's, sitting practically on top of Fang for warmth; all the heat was seeping out through the cracks in the hut's walls.

"You really need to get those fixed," Harry commented as he got up to leave.

"I been meanin' tah. It's jus' that I got other things ter do 'round here, an' this keeps gettin' pushed off."

"Well you getting sick will do no one any good. Especially with the news going around, you know."

"What, all that 'bout Ron and 'Mione getting' hitched? We all knew it was on'y a matter ah time 'afore they got that all sorted out. When's the weddin'?"

"They haven't officially announced anything yet. Not even to me."

"Then how's a busy person like meself supposed ter plan fer it, then?"Hagrid said with a twinkle worthy of Dumbledore in his dark eyes.

"Hagrid, no offense, but you're not what any respectable person would call _busy._ That would imply having a schedule, and things to fill it with.

"Yeah, well, I ain't got nothin' that can't be moved, I suppose!" The table shook with his laugh.

"Except fixing the holes in your walls!"

"Ay. I'll get ter it, 'arry, I promise." Hagrid's voice was its usual offhand self, and Harry sighed with a smile as he shoved the door open.

"I'll drop by soon with news, Hagrid, and if those holes aren't plastered over I'll do it myself."

"Yeah yeah, git goin', then." He shooed Harry out of his hut with a wave of his meaty hand and a fuzzy smile, and the door shut with a bang. Harry was immediately fighting the wind as it buffeted his body left and right across the grass; that was when Harry saw Draco standing in the tumultuous weather, hair flying around his head, down by the lake. Draco was gazing out with unfocused eyes across the water, the overcast sky and wind blowing his clothes into disarray and frothing the waves not registering with him. Harry squinted his eyes and changed his destination.

"Draco!" Harry yelled over the wind when he finally reached him. "You have to come in, Draco! You don't have on your cloak and it's going to rain!" When Draco didn't respond, Harry grabbed the forearm closest to him and _pulled_. Draco stumbled into Harry, and Harry felt shivers wracking his slight frame. His breaths came in gasps, and his eyes were wide- _what was going on_?

"Dray! Come on! You have to get inside!" Draco wasn't cooperating, seemingly unable to control his limbs for the cold and trembles. Harry half drug, half carried him across the grounds towards Hogwarts, being shoved this way and that by the now howling winds that were slowly being joined by splattering raindrops that stung like needles against the boy's exposed skin. Draco, Harry soon realized, was crying; his tears were washed away by the driving rain, but the sounds he was desperately trying to hide gave him away. _Draco…_ Harry thought, and shoved with all the dwindling strength left in him against the doors to the castle.

They stumbled into the quiet, warm corridor and collapsed onto the floor as the doors were pulled shut by wind. Harry knelt next to his friend on the flagstones, dripping and shaking with cold himself, and tried to warm Draco.

"You dolt, what were you doing out there without a cloak?" Harry cast a rudimentary warming charm on Draco. "You could have been killed. Blown into the lake like squid food." He dried the few articles of clothing Draco had on as well as the puddle the boys were creating on the floor with a couple swipes of his wand. "You promised to be a better friend than Hedwig, but you've got to take care of yourself to keep that promise, okay?" Harry dried himself as an afterthought and pulled Draco's comatose body into his arms. "I could have lost you, and I only just _got_ you." Harry let out a gusty sigh when Draco turned his head into Harry and curled closer.

"Harry…"

"Let's get you to Madame Pomfrey's, Dray." He didn't respond, but helped Harry as best he could when they got off the floor and he started helping him shuffle along to the hospital wing. Draco's trembling extremities and extremely clouded mind were not making the cause any easier. He leaned into Harry more than his unaffected mind would have deemed prudent, relying on Harry for warmth and support and a sense of grounding.

oOo

Draco's last thoughts before hitting the pillow on a cot in the hospital wing with Pomfrey looking concernedly down at him ran through his mind like a broken tape reel; _Mother is not well… I must tell Harry, he will make it better. He makes everything better. Mother needs me… I need Harry… He will make it better…_

oOo

_Draco is not well… I need to make it better. I need _Draco_. He makes me better. I must find a way to help him, make him better. _

oOoOoOoOo

Draco woke up in the hospital wing to a shaft of intense sunlight across his eyes, warming his skin and casting reddish light across the otherwise darkened room. He blinked the sleep away and tried to clear his hazy mind, then turned his head towards little shuffling sounds to his right. Harry was digging around in his robes clumsily, scooting around on his chair to loosen the fabric from around him, finally locating what he was looking for and holding it up to the shutters that were letting the little shaft of twilight in. He waved his wand and muttered a spell, and they clicked closed. Draco watched Harry rub his eyes with his fists like a child, blinking as if he had just woken up as well, then decided to make his consciousness known.

"Harry," he murmured, and Harry's head jerked up and his eyes cleared.

"Draco, I thought I caught the light before it woke you." He seemed displeased.

"I'm done sleeping anyhow." Harry stayed silent.

"What time is it?"

"It's Sunday evening. You missed your potions lesson with Snape last night, but I ran down there to tell him you wouldn't be coming when I remembered. He was only a little bit peeved with my lack of knowledge. I told him to fuck off, that I wasn't about to interrogate you while you were obviously hurting. You'll probably have to find some other poor soul to study potions with now, sorry." Harry paused, deliberating. Draco's eyes roamed over what little of Harry he could see; he noticed that there were ochre flecks in his eyes along with the green, noticed that his hair resembled a bird's nest even more so than usual, noticed that his robes had creases like Umbridge's face had wrinkles.

"Thank you. For telling Snape and for… saving me."

"Of course, Draco. Anything."They let the silence have its way for a moment and felt the emotions swirl before Draco spoke again.

"Did you sleep here last night?"

"I slept on another cot, if that's what you mean. I only moved to the chair when… when you started mumbling that I would make it better, that your mother isn't doing well. You had my hand in a death grip until the light from the shutters started waking you. Why were you out at the lake on a day like yesterday, Draco? Did something happen to your mom?"

Draco had anticipated the question, of course he had. Someone was bound to run into him someday when his thoughts took him somewhere undesirable, or away too often to be written off and forgotten about. What he had not expected was the fact that the person asking the question cared about his wellbeing rather than the next piece of gossip to spread around, had not expected the concern in Harry's voice or the hurt tone like subtle betrayal of the trust Harry thought Draco held in him, his earnest eyes eager to help.

Draco couldn't use the phony excuse he'd planned, not for Harry. He deserved nothing but the truth. _Mother is not well,_ Draco thought, and the tears he'd thought he'd cried yesterday made another appearance. Harry leaned forward to hug Draco over the sheets of the hospital cot, and Draco clung to him and cried as if he were alone, as he would have when he was small if Lucius wasn't there with his disapproving stare and wand at the ready to reprimand him. As if his mother was there to comfort him.

oOoOo

Draco had been released from the hospital wing the night before, with Pomfrey assuring an increasingly frantic Harry that the only thing wrong with Mister Malfoy was cold and exhaustion and that he could leave in the morning when he woke up.

Harry remembered this and stood when Draco's tears quieted. Draco's hands held like claws to the front of Harry's robes, and Harry covered them with his own at the sight of Draco's beseeching, terrified expression.

"Don't worry now, I'm not leaving unless you tell me to leave." Draco's hands tightened. "I thought it might be better to leave the hospital wing and go somewhere where we're less likely to get barged in on, okay?"

oOo

_No, I'm supposed to be taking care of _you._ You need support, I can deal with my problems like I always have. I promised to be there, be a better friend, and here I am relying on you to put me back together again…_ "… Okay."

oOo

"Because you need to tell me what is wrong, so I can make it better." Harry said, purposefully using Draco's subconsciously murmured words. Draco's grip loosened, and he sat up and swung his feet onto the floor. His silence was unnerving Harry, making his scenarios about what could be so bad as to warrant Draco standing out in the rain and gale force winds yesterday grow exponentially worse by the second. The damn buttery sunlight that had woken Harry the first time this morning just served to make him angry- it couldn't have been nice out when Draco was outside last night, _no,_ but it could surely rub in Harry's face today how fair the weather might have been.

"Where are we going?" Draco asked in a raw sounding voice.

"The owlrey, yeah?" The only response Harry got was a nod and downcast eyes.

oOoOo

Harry examined Draco critically when they'd mounted the steps up to the owlrey and decided that he wasn't up to sitting on the hard windowsill as per usual. He conjured up a cushion and cast a subtle warming spell; Draco sank down onto it gratefully, scooting over to allow room for Harry before laying back.

"Thank you, Harry." Harry was glad for the slow return of Draco's personality. The unresponsive Draco had made him wonder if the blonde was reverting to his ice prince persona to protect his emotions, and Harry was glad this wasn't the case. Draco pulled Harry against him when Harry lay down and turned his head against Harry's chest to avoid his eyes as he began to speak.

"Sometimes, when I have too much on my mind, I go somewhere big enough to think. I mean, a place that's large enough and empty enough and quiet enough that I can spread out my thoughts and see them clearly instead of letting them tie my mind into knots and chase me around in circles. I tend to get… lost, caught up, in them then." He began to rub his thumb back and forth in a small arc across Harry's chest where Draco's arm lay to calm himself, but Harry's arm moving around his shoulders and his pressing closer soothed Draco's roiling emotions more effectively. Draco closed his eyes.

"I got a letter from my mother yesterday. That's what I was thinking about down by the lake. She's not been… well, not been in control of all her mental faculties, since the war. With Father in Azkaban, me here, and the Malfoy name under constant scrutiny, her sanity is being stretched too thin." Draco's voice broke, and he stopped talking. Harry tightened his hold around Draco's shoulders, and Draco appreciated that he didn't press him for information.

Draco reached down into his pocked with his free arm and pulled out a neatly creased piece of letterhead embossed with the Malfoy crest and wordlessly pressed it into Harry's.

Dearest Draco,

How are your studies progressing? I feel obligated to ask, though I know that you will be managing just fine. The house elves and I are having a successful time in the greenhouse as well; the cinquefoils are ready to be harvested, aren't you glad?

I believe I had a purpose for writing you, but I'm afraid I have forgotten it since I began writing. I don't dare waste this lovely new letterhead, however, so I am posting it nonetheless. If I happen to remember—

Draco fished out another slip, this time of low grade parchment, from his pocket and handed it to Harry as well.

Master Daco:

Mistress Malfoy has not completed this letter, but it has sat on her desk for a week and Mopsy thinks mistress will not finish it. Mopsy thought it would be bet to send the letter to Master Draco, in case it was important. Mistress is not in her right mind, and Mopsy thought that perhaps she meant to send it anyway.

Harry folded the letter deliberately, placing the slip of parchment inside.

"I have to go home to help her. She… Things are slipping her mind, our groundskeeper has told me that she has taken to wandering around the gardens in the middle of the night and seems bewildered when he directs her back inside, and now even the house elves are risking punishment by telling me that she is not in her right mind. I have no other choice, Harry. I need to go home." Draco cursed the few tears that dropped down his cheeks onto Harry's robes.

"You can't shoulder this by yourself, Draco." Harry paused as he thought of a plan of action.

"Spring break is a two weeks away. You need to trust the house elves and your groundskeeper to keep Narcissa out of harm's way until then, when you and I can go to Malfoy manner and see what needs to be done." Harry paused a moment longer. "You'll need help, some distance from the situation, and the connections and influence I can get you. That's what we'll do."

Draco stayed silent, nodding his agreement into Harry's shoulder in relief. He was taking charge, they already had a plan. Harry was going to make it better, even if he couldn't fix it.

"I'll be indebted to you forever, Harry."

"I love you too, Draco." Harry responded cautiously. It was something that just rolled off his tongue when he was talking to Hermione or Ron, even to Ginny, and he hoped Draco recognized the declaration of friendship for what it was.

"Love you too…" Draco trailed off, and he allowed sleep to pull him under again. Draco's battered body was still weak from its stint in the storm and the emotional deluge of the past twenty four hours; he deserved the sleep.

Harry was not surprised when his familiar raincloud descended on him that night; he had been through the emotional wringer, and this was the only outcome he'd expected. He held Draco's slumbering form close and tried to be quiet as he let the tears fall, staring out the window over Draco's silvery hair at the stars. He could feel the ache in his chest as if it were a tangible thing, could feel the crushing grief that threatened to drown him.

Harry cried for each life that had been lost and for all those who had been affected in the aftershocks. He cried for Remus and Sirius, he cried for the woman he saw struck with the killing curse whom he had never met before, for the innocent souls forced into servitude by the Dark Lord, for Narcissa. For Draco.

**Author's note: **Whoa, this is completely outside what I expected to write! My bad, my bad… What do you think? Too heavy?


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: **I am a horrible person for taking this long and I am on my knees apologizing for the wait. *grovel grovel* I won't make excuses 'cause I know you won't want to hear them. Promise it won't happen again. Hugs!

Harry was sitting in transfiguration a week later, deep in thought. McGonagall was lecturing about the pros and cons of transfiguring something large into something the size of a marble, creating the possibility of changing it back at a later date, but the information was hardly registering in Harry's mind. McGonagall's voice sounded comfortingly mellow in the vaulted-ceilinged classroom, and the windows let the sweet, meandering breeze in- no trace was left of the freak rainstorm besides a few broken tree branches.

Harry jerked out of his thoughts when Hermione nudged his arm none too gently.

"'Mione! What was that for?" he whispered to her. She had her hair pulled back, and when she turned her head it brushed across Ron's face and made him splutter.

"Aren't you at all interested in this concept?" she whispered back.

"I might be, if it was the only thing I had to think about right now."

"Anything we can help with, mate?" Ron asked.

"Doubt it, guys."

"Is there a problem, Miss Granger? Mister Potter?"

"No, sorry Professor." They mumbled. She looked at them for a moment, but continued her lecture. Harry went back to listening to the birds and his previous train of thought- what to do about Draco's mother.

Harry hadn't been around her for long enough to form an opinion about her, but he did believe that she was a decent person. She had lied, to Voldemort's hideous face, to save Harry's life and perhaps change the outcome of the entire war. So the only thing to do now was figure out how to bring her back to the strong, self-assured woman that she once was.

_Perhaps once we get there and see how she's acting, we'll be able to figure out who we should talk to for help. St. Mungo's probably has healers who specialize in psychological stuff like this, or post-traumatic stress disorder…_Harry knew his muggle roots were really no help to him here in the realm of magical maladies…_ but they may be unwilling to treat a death eater's wife. Especially the wife of a death eater who is currently in Azkaban. But with the Golden Boy-_ Harry scoffed to himself- _advocating her well being, someone's bound to offer to help. _Harry rested his chin in his palm, the rough wood of the work table digging into his elbow, but was pulled out of his musings when Hermione sighed again pointedly.

"You could at least _pretend_ to pay attention, you know." Harry grinned, and put his thoughts away for the time being.

"Yes, mum."

oOoOoOoOo

"Teach me the spell you were using to draw with light the day we met in Hogsmeade." Harry asked Draco a few days later. The day for spring break was drawing near, and the two boys had become a little more subdued thinking about what was to come; contrary to the rest of Hogwarts, which was practically buzzing from the pent up excitement that leaving the school brought. Harry was trying to take Draco's mind off of going home; they'd have enough time to dwell on Narcissa once they arrived at the Manor.

"You mean this one?" Draco asked with a smile, and started tracing patterns onto the lenses of Harry's glasses.

"Yeah, that one," Harry said, swiping at the sparkling lines zigzagging across his vision. They were sitting on a balcony off of an unused room that overlooked the grounds and the Quidditch pitch, letting the sun warm the chill that was still in the air.

"The spell's _Tractus Coma_. _Infusco_ makes the lines disperse. It's a simple spell, really. I learned it from a book in my fath... the library in the Manor." Once Draco dispersed the light on his glasses, Harry had the hang of the spell in a few tries; but he hung onto the fact that Draco avoided mentioning his father. It was another puzzle piece that had yet to find its place, and Harry was determined to complete the picture.

"What would you do if I…" Harry reached across and drew a shimmering line on Draco's pressed white shirt. Harry looked up to gauge Draco's reaction, and smirked when he saw the look of faked outrage on his face.

"Well I'd have no choice but to do this!" He said, and slashed a line across Harry's chest.

"Right!" Harry said, and drew a heart over Draco's breast pocket.

"Well I never!" Draco exclaimed dramatically, and drew a moustache across Harry's upper lip. "There. Much better, don't you think?"

"That tickles… Do you agree?" Harry splashed light across Draco's cheeks in a false blush.

"I am not a _girl_, Potty!" Harry acquired a few glittery highlights.

"That's it, there's the line you just crossed!" Harry laughed, and lunged across the floor towards Draco.

"_Tractus Coma! Tractus Coma_!"

"What is that even supposed to _be_?"

"Who are _you_ to judge my drawing skills, mister I-draw-eyelashes-that-look-like-caterpillars!

"Look who's thinking bloody high of himself now! Have you _seen_ this dreadfully shaped heart you drew?"

"What the hell's going on out here? Or don't I want to know?" Harry and Draco stopped mid-spell, Draco sitting Indian style and leaning back on one arm with his wand pointed at Harry's face, Harry on his knees in front of Draco with his wand shimmering in front of Draco's throat. Both of them were covered in ridiculous doodles of shimmering lines, a testament to live vandalism. Ron stood in the doorframe, the marauder's map in one hand and his wand held halfheartedly in the other.

Draco chuckled.

"I can imagine how this would look…" Harry tried, then let out a laugh.

It went downhill from there- Draco and Harry burst out in infectious laughter, and Ron fell victim a moment later.

"What are you two doing that could…"

"I don't even know how it got his far…"

"Wait, who drew THIS hideous…"

Their laughter bounced off the castle walls and echoed out over the grounds- it was a while before the doodles were actually dispersed.

oOoOoOoOo

"You young'ins better get yerselfs on that train 'afore it leaves ya in the dust, there!" Hagrid bellowed across the platform at Hogwarts as the train let out a great screech of steam.

"Bye Hagrid! We'll be back soon!" Harry yelled back, and boarded the train with Draco, Hermione, and Ron after seeing the gamekeeper's enormous hand waving in farewell. Hermione and Ron joined the compartment with Ginny, Neville, Luna, and Dean, and held the door for Harry and Draco. The Slytherin hesitated in the doorframe, and said,

"I think… I'll sit with Blaise and Pansy. They've said that I'm abandoning them." Harry heard the words he didn't say- that he was abandoning them _for Gryffindors_- and watched him walk away down the corridor silently. Harry pulled his compartment door closed and slid into a seat between Hermione and the window.

oOo

Everyone was chatting, had been for some time, but Harry couldn't find it in himself to join in. He watched the trees flash past for a while, then turned to Hermione and asked,

"Do you have a book I can read?"

He wryly wished he'd thought to phrase that question better when he saw the glowing hope dawning in her ochre eyes as she turned to look at him.

"Harry! Of _course_ I have a book you can borrow! I never… What are you in the mood for? I have…" She pulled her little purse out from under her seat and reached in up to her elbow. "I've got a few right now you might like, how about this one? It's about Grindelwald. Or this one? It has a lovely storyline. Maybe-"

"I'll take that last one there, 'Mione. The one with the dragon on it? Yeah, thanks."

"Anytime, Harry! Anytime!" She looked at him with shining eyes for a moment longer before throwing herself enthusiastically back into the conversation with Ron and Luna.

_You know, this book isn't half bad, _Harry thought after a bit.

oOoOo

The next time Harry emerged from his reading was when the snack cart witch pulled the compartment door open. Harry's stomach inevitably rumbled, and buying something was unavoidable once his hunger had been acknowledged. He stood up, sticking his hand in his pocket to find out how much he could buy.

Draco visited with the snack cart, coming in as it was leaving with a cauldron cake in his hand.

"Hey Draco." Harry, Hermione, and Ron chorused, and went back to their conversation and Harry to his transaction. Luna smiled dreamily, as unaffected by her surroundings as always, and Ginny managed not to look hostile. She still wasn't used to Draco hanging around with them, but Harry assumed she would come around eventually; just like she had when he had suggested they step back from each other romantically. They both knew their relationship was hardly anything more than brother and sister, and that forcing themselves into a romantic relationship just wasn't going to work. She just had to see past her tenacity to admit it, and Harry thought that this was the same type of situation. Draco wasn't bothered, in any case.

"Hello." Draco hesitated in the center of the compartment for a barely noticeable moment before seating himself in an empty chair opposite Luna. Harry, still standing with his food in his hands, sat next to him, leaving his book on his previous seat. Draco relaxed minutely as Harry settled himself. _I suppose Ginny's not the only one who's not quite comfortable mingling yet,_ Harry thought. _Some are just better at hiding it than others_. The thought was strangely endearing, and Harry looked at Draco affectionately before asking,

"How're Parkinson and Zabini?"

"Fine. Questioning my motives, but fine." The murmur of other conversations and the cadence of the train offered the two boys some measure of privacy.

"How so?"

"The usual 'Gryffindors are not to be trusted' and 'they're turning you soft' bit I've been getting for a while now. To be honest, I think they're getting tired of hearing it themselves. Perhaps you can come visit _us_ sometime soon without having to avoid multiple murder attempts." Draco mused.

"Hmm, sounds absolutely lovely. You make them sound so appealing."

"It's a gift."

"I can imagine."

"So who will be at the platform to bring us back to the Manor?" It certainly wouldn't be Narcissa, would it?

"Most likely the groundskeeper. He's always taken responsibility for me, especially so… since Lucius was put into Azkaban."

"The same groundkeeper who brings your mother back inside when she walks the gardens at night?" Harry asked.

"Yes. His name is Rowan."

"Is that what you call him? Not by his last name?" Harry thought he saw a faint blush dusting Draco's cheeks.

"He's more than a groundskeeper to me," he said quietly, looking down at his lap.

"And Hagrid's more than a groundskeeper to me." Harry agreed. Draco looked up through his eyelashes and smiled, grey eyes shining.

"Yeah, I guess he is."

oOoOoOoOo

Sure enough, after Harry and Draco said temporary goodbyes to their respective friends on platform nine and three quarters, it was Rowan and a house elf who were standing off to the side to collect them.

"Good day master Draco, hello mister Potter." Rowan said, and Harry almost asked how Rowan knew who he was. _I don't think I'm ever going to get used to the whole famous thing, _he thought as he exchanged greetings.

"If you don't object, master Draco, I'll side-along apparate with mister Potter and you can go with Baubles here?" Rowan said to Draco.

"Sure thing." Draco said, and took the little creature's hand. Harry heard her say, "Baubles is very glad that master has come to visit," before the crack of apparation sounded and Draco and Baubles popped out of existence.

"Are you ready, mister Potter?" Harry understood that he was talking about more than just the uncomfortable tug of apparation. Rowan's warm brown eyes gazed thoughtfully down into Harry's as if gauging him, and Harry didn't think that anything apart from an honest answer would do.

"I believe so, sir."

"No need for that 'sir' business, mister Potter! Call me Rowan." Rowan said after a pause, with a smile that shone against his suntanned skin as he reached out a strong hand to grasp Harry's arm.

"No need for the 'mister' business, then, Rowan." Harry countered with a smile of his own.

"I think you of all people have earned the title, _mister_ Potter." Rowan said just before he disapparated, tugging Harry along with him.

They swirled back into being just outside the doors to the Malfoy Manner which, Harry had to admit, looked much _healthier_ than it did when he last paid it a visit. The grounds were tamed and in blossom, the dark mark was absent from the sky, there was no screaming emanating from within, and the albino peacocks were once again roaming the gardens. Harry approved.

"Coming in?" Draco asked, somewhat nervously.

"'Course," Harry said.

"I'll head back to my cabin. You boys be sure to let me know if anything happens." Rowan said, and walked in the direction of a cozy house on the edge of the grounds. Draco nodded, picked up his trunk, and pushed open the front door.

The interior was like night and day as well, more stately than evil. Floors and walls had been repaired and cleaned, artwork replaced, curses removed.

"Like it? You haven't been here since…" Draco said, his voice oddly quiet in comparison to the enormous entryway they were standing in. Harry glanced around at the curving staircase and tasteful chandelier before answering.

"I do. I can see you living here now."

"Good. Well, I'll be in my rooms, and you can use one of the empty ones while you're here. I doubt mother would mind…" Draco blinked his eyes as if clearing his thoughts, and turned to the stairs. "Would you like to put your things in your room before we greet mother?"

"Please," Harry said. Draco was anxious and reverting to his formal speech. Harry wondered if Draco had gotten any more disheartening mail from Narcissa recently.

Harry picked the room next to Draco's. Well, _rooms_, to be more accurate. Each set of quarters had a sitting room, a bedroom, a bathroom, and an overly large closet to it. _All in all, much better than a closet under the stairs,_ Harry thought as he thumped his trunk down in the middle of the bedroom, at the foot of the ridiculously large bed. _What would one even do with this much mattress? _Harry thought idly.

"Would you like to see the rest of the house we regularly use?" Draco said from the doorway.

"Sure thing." Harry said, casting one last dubious look at the bed before walking towards the door.

"We may see mother, too, but I think she'll be out in the gardens. We'll visit there last."

The Malfoy manner was, as usual, more opulent than ever. It seems like, before she started to fade, that Narcissa had tried to banish the bad memories one décor change at a time. The boy's steps echoed in the rooms of marble and thick fabrics, but Harry found that the sounds returned to him sounding a bit lonelier than the echoes at Hogwarts did.

"And here is the greenhouse." Draco said, motioning to a huge glass dome that seemed to house a rainforest. Trees touched the ceiling, vines draped down from branches, mist hung in the air, fountains burbled, flowers bloomed. And there was Narcissa herself, sitting on a bench under a weeping cherry, staring idly at a lily blossom she held in her hand. As Draco and Harry walked closer, they could hear that she was also humming very faintly to herself, a tune that struck Draco as familiar, though he couldn't place it.

"Hello mother." He said simply.

"Oh, hello dear. And you've brought a friend! Hello, Harry, isn't it? Welcome, welcome! Draco, I do hope you have shown this boy the proper courtesy."

"Of course, mother."

"Now why aren't you at school?"

"We are on spring break, mother."

"Oh, yes, of course! How could I have forgotten?" She looked distractedly down at the white bloom in her hand again. "Dear, do you know where Rowan is? I believe I told him…" she trailed off, and Draco sighed and snapped his fingers.

"Master called?" It was Baubles that popped into the room.

"Please fetch Rowan for mother and bring him here."

"Of course, master Draco." Baubles popped away, and Draco turned to leave.

"Wait, Dragon! Would you like to see the cinquefoils I've been telling you about? They're still blooming. _Do_ come see."

**Author's note: **_Tractus Coma_ means drawing rays of light and _Infusco_ means to make dark in Latin, according to my online translator, in case you were wondering. Thanks for the reading (and for the reviewing I'm sure you're about to do! XD)!


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note:** Hey all, it's me again! With a new chapter, that's NOT late! I'm posting 'cause the next few weeks may get a little hectic, what with graduation and stuffs. Bear with me, kay dears? Enjoy

"Good morning, boys."

"Hey Rowan. Can you unlock the broom shed for us?"

"'Course."

It was Tuesday morning, three days since their arrival at the manor. Narcissa had stayed in her funk for the duration, only ascending once while speaking to Rowan in the greenhouse that first day. Harry had watched the exchange between Narcissa and her groundskeeper curiously; it seems as if she had a closer relationship than was usual with Rowan just like Draco did. Who exactly _was_ he to the Malfoys? With Lucius in Azkaban, it seemed like Rowan had taken over the responsibilities of the head of house in all but name, caring for Draco and Narcissa as if they were his true family; making sure things got done, speaking on behalf of the matriarch if she was indisposed. He would have to keep an eye on how this was affecting Narcissa.

Harry could tell that helplessness and despair were eating at Draco, and had suggested they go flying for a bit to get him out of the house. After Rowan opened the broom shed, Draco pulled out two brooms and tossed one to Harry. Harry pulled his faithful snitch out of his pocket and asked,

"Fancy a game?" Draco smiled softly, no doubt remembering their first game together.

"You're on." Draco paused, then hollered out the door,

"Rowan! Do you have time for a game of seeker too?" Harry had to pause to collect his chin off the floor.

"What's this, sinking so low to win that you need to make the teams unfair?" He said, but inside he was wondering just how much of a fixture in this family Rowan really was, if Draco was comfortable enough to invite his groundskeeper in on a quidditch game with a friend. Then again, maybe Draco was freer with Harry than he was with his other pureblood friends, who had to follow their obscure rules and unspoken agreements.

"No, we'll play every man for himself."

"I've got time, master Draco. One game only, though." Rowan peered around the door frame into the shed, and Draco tossed him a broom as well, grinning.

"You're going down." Harry smiled at his playfulness. This had been the right thing to suggest.

oOoOo

Needless to say, Rowan played three games with them, during which he failed to win even once. Rowan played to distract more than to actually catch the snitch; he'd toss rocks snatched from the ground, point dramatically, and fly close enough to the boys to make them wobble, laughing merrily the entire time. After the snitch was caught the last time, the three landed on the makeshift pitch to catch their breath. Draco leaned against Harry in exhaustion, partially from flying and partially from laughing so hard at Rowan's antics. They almost fell to the ground- Harry was no more stable than Draco was.

"Harry! I can't believe you went for that stone! The snitch was right under you!"

"Hey, at least I didn't flip under my broom trying to avoid Rowan here!"

"You both need more practice. That was just too easy!" Rowan had a nice deep laugh, Harry thought before he and Draco tripped to the ground in an ungraceful heap. Had any of them looked up at the manor just then they would have seen Narcissa let the curtain fall between her and the view of the boys' finished game, an aware expression on her face for the first time in ages.

oOoOoOo

"Yeah, she's withdrawn and not herself. She focuses on simple things like her garden, and can't seem to finish anything either."

"Can't finish what type of thing?"

"Like a letter. She's also taken to wandering outside at night."

"Okay, I have a few ideas as to what this might be. And what is the patient's name?"

"Narcissa Malfoy."

"Oh… Malfoy. I'll have to talk to someone higher up in the chain of command before St. Mungo's can treat her. I'll get back to you with their verdict…"

"But she's sick! I'll pay, if you don't want her money. Just-"

"I'll talk to you later, mister Potter." With that the mediwitch's face disappeared from the floo, taking Harry's halfhearted hope with her. Harry sat back on his haunches with a disappointed sigh.

oOoOoOoOo

The Friday after their quiditch match it poured like the dickens, dumping what seemed like the entire ocean down on the Malfoy mansion. Harry was standing at the window in the gloomy library and watching the sluicing water rush down the glass when Draco walked in. He was smiling, a genuine smile that Harry hadn't known he'd missed 'till he saw it again.

"Hey, what's up?" He asked. Draco walked up to stand next to Harry and looked out the window as well.

"Nothing. I'm just glad you came here with me. It's nice, to not have to _pretend._" So Harry's thoughts about Draco's pureblood rules had been correct. Draco leaned his shoulder into Harry's side, and Harry wrapped him in a one sided hug.

"Sure thing, Draco."

"Hello Draco, Harry." Narcissa said from the doorway. The boys pulled apart to look at her, Draco blushing slightly. "What is the date today?" She sounded bewildered; not in her usual lost, dreamy way, but like she couldn't believe how much time had passed. "Is the clock in the other room correct, Draco?"

"Yes, mother. We're on spring break right now. We'll be leaving for the train on Sunday."

"Will you! Have we been to town yet this break?" Harry knew this must have been a tradition that the two had been practicing and that Narcissa had forgotten about by the dawning light Draco's eyes.

"No we haven't, mother."

"Well! Shame on this rain then, for postponing our trip further! Remind me tomorrow, darling."

"Of course, mother." Draco said, his voice like a child on Christmas. Narcissa glided out the doorway and Draco turned to fling his arms around Harry's neck.

"She remembered, Harry! I didn't think she was going to. We always go to town, every spring break, and I thought she'd forgotten!" He rested his forehead on Harry's shoulder, and Harry wrapped his arms around Draco lightly. Yes, Narcissa was coming around, through no effort of Harry's. He wondered what the trigger had been to start her recovery as he watched the woman turn again, smile at her son's open affection, and continue walking.

oOoOoOoOo

"I've been… withdrawn, Draco, from the world since your father was put into Azkaban, and I apologize for any anxiety this has caused you." Narcissa paused while the train attendant checked that everyone was seated in their compartments before continuing. "Since the war ended the Malfoy name has been trashed, twisted and exaggerated beyond recognition. Placing Lucius in prison made the open hostility worse, until it was hard for me to leave even the Manor. I pulled into myself further, to avoid the slander and unfair treatment to the point of incoherency.

"But you, coming home to a mother broken, still managed to be happy with Harry, and Rowan too. You helped me realize that there was more yet to live for, more that mattered to me than the family name and social standing. I have a son-"she touched Draco's hand- "that needs my care, and myself to make happy as well. A society to set straight." She smiled. "Thank you, Draco, for helping me realize this."

"Of course, mother." His words were formal, but the emotion behind them displayed his love as plainly as saying the words would have. "I'm glad you're back."

oOoOoOo

"Harry!" Draco called when he and his mother returned from town.

"Welcome home, dear!" Harry called back in a high pitched voice from upstairs. Narcissa laughed, a lovely chiming sound that evidently carried, because Harry popped out of his room and to the head of the stairs a moment later with a surprised look on his face.

"Welcome home, Miss Malfoy." He said in a more formal voice.

"How were things with Rowan?" Draco asked as he tromped up the stairs towards Harry.

"Oh, you know, ruddy fantastic. I'll bet you'll be sorry you missed it."

"You didn't do anything, did you."

"Nope. He had work to do."

"Thought not. But hey, if it's any consolation, I picked you up some stuff in town."

"Hey, thanks! You didn't have to do that!"

"But I did. Mother said she's sorry for checking out of reality for a while on the train." There were emotions roiling below the surface of that smooth voice, and Harry gently took the bags from Draco's hand, calmly placed them on the enormous bed, and turned back to Draco before speaking.

"_Did_ she."

"YES!" Draco exuberantly flung his arms around Harry's neck once again, now free of cumbersome bags. "She said it was because she saw me happy, Harry! Because you make me- because you and me and Rowan showed her that there is more to life than social standing." Harry wished he had finished his first sentence. Because Harry made him… happy as well?

"That's so great, Draco! I guess we didn't have to deal with St. Mungo's after all!" Harry had so far failed to mention his attempt to do exactly that, and had conveniently also not told Draco about the fact that they hadn't flooed him back. He wasn't planning on bringing it up.

"Too bad tomorrow's Sunday. School starts again Monday morning." Harry dropped his chin to rest on Draco's shoulder in defeat.

"Right. I haven't even looked at that essay for Charms that's due Wednesday."

"I looked at the prompt, it won't be that difficult." Draco pulled away from Harry and sat on the bed. "Flitwick's not that hard on essays anyway."

"True." Draco started rummaging through bags, pulling out a few things and tossing them onto the bedspread.

"Okay. Here's a pile of chocolate, for my little sweet tooth…" he said without releasing the bag he was sorting through.

"I think I might love you," Harry said when he saw the ridiculously high quality deliciousness he was being given.

"…and I got you some ink, to replace the bottle of yours I spilled the week before break…"

"Wanker. You could have just asked me to pass another sheet of parchment instead of reaching over everything I was doing." Harry smiled good-naturedly.

"…and this." Draco pulled out a simple box tied with twine and nudged it into Harry's shoulder. Harry tugged at the bow and let the lid fall open to reveal a braided leather bracelet with a dragon design stamped into it, such that when you clasp the bracelet the dragon looked like it was eating its tail.

"I thought it would represent the full circle we've come, you know, enemies to friends. And remind you of…"

"Of _you_, Dragon?" Harry used Narcissa's nickname for her son deliberately, looking away from the bracelet to Draco's face.

"Perhaps of me, a bit."

"Well, I love it. Thank you, Draco." Harry leaned over to hug him, holding the hug for a moment before letting go.

"Will you help me with this?" he asked, holding out his wrist and handing Draco the bracelet. Draco got the bracelet fastened, and Harry rubbed at it affectionately.

"I like it."

"I think I like you wearing it," Draco said teasingly, leering jokingly at Harry's wrist.

"Oh _do_ you?" Harry laughed.

"Indeed I do."

oOoOoOo

Both Rowan and Narcissa were at platform 9 ¾ to see the boys off that Sunday. Before Harry had gotten out of earshot, Narcissa had said 'Thank you, Harry Potter, for saving me yet again.' Harry ducked his head and blushed, but couldn't help but notice Rowan squeezing her shoulder in support and affection. Yes, there was definitely a larger part in this family for Rowan than groundskeeper. Harry waved to them as the train started to screech forward even as Draco restrained himself. Harry looked at his conflicted face, then reached down, grabbed Draco's forearm, and waggled it out the window for him.

"What are you doing, Potty?" Draco asked with a smile plastered across his face, body shaking from the force of Harry's waving.

"Letting you wave without taking the responsibility of showing emotion in public. Good compromise, yeah?" Harry's grin matched Draco's as he finally released his hold on him.

"Sure, sure, works out just grand. You get to be a fool and I have to suffer through and be associated with you." Harry just smiled, and turned to find a compartment.

"Are you sitting with the Slytherins again?"

"Yeah, haven't seen them since before break. I'll visit, yeah?"

"All right." Harry fingered his leather bracelet as Draco walked away and smiled.

**Author's note:** Sorry, this one's a little short. But I figured I just updated, and stuff happened, so I was all right. Thoughts?


End file.
